


I Might Be Losing It

by Thette



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Canon Related, Come Marking, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Singer Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Sex, Writer Derek Hale, Writer's Block, derek hale in cardigans, reference to filk, slight canon divergence in the form of derek's alphaness and alive hale pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 11:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16039412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thette/pseuds/Thette
Summary: C-list paranormal romance author Derek has writer's block. His sarcastic friend Stiles, a You Tube filk singer, does not suffer from the same condition. It's infuriating.(Post-canon, with slight canon divergence. Derek is still an Alpha, and he has a pack, which includes Stiles.)





	I Might Be Losing It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Smowkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smowkie/gifts).



> Quotes from [Hard to Be the Bard](https://youtu.be/JRDajvNX7Vw?t=44s), from the Something Rotten musical, full of dick jokes and writer's block.

Derek pressed play on the video for the third time tonight. 

_Then it's back to my room_  
_Where I resume_  
_My attempt to write a hit_  
_Just me and my beer_  
_And my terrible fear_  
_That I might be losing it_  
_And it's hard (it's so hard)_  


He wrapped his cardigan harder around himself and looked at the latest chapter. So bad. The dialogue was flat, the character motivation lacking, and the plot was completely ludicrous, even for an urban fantasy romance. Once the Bard had finished singing, he closed his laptop and pushed it away. Nothing good would come from writing today. He cuddled up on the couch instead, blanket covering his bare feet and a cup of steaming hot tea in his hand. When that didn't "alleviate the pressure to create, " he tried distracting himself, by picking up his phone. On Tumblr, his writer friends were also complaining that writing is hard. He shared a few memes, and laughed self-deprecatingly.

That didn't provide him with any relief either, and neither did watching crap TV, or trying to read a book. "Better than you!" they all seemed to scream.

"Hey, what do you think of a Star Trek version of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald?" Stiles asked, barging in through the door without knocking, as he usually did. "It's such a good shipwreck song, I wanna hear it in space. Oooh, or Firefly? Or is it overdone?"

"Meh," Derek said, not wanting to get dragged into talking about song ideas, when his own ideas were lacking.

"What happened to you? Someone ate all your favorite protein bars?"

Derek turned around, glaring at him. Stiles knew all the ways to get under his skin, to annoy him on purpose, and most days, he loved it. He loved that someone cared enough to bother him, like his sisters had bothered him when he was younger. It felt good to have someone who knew him, who wasn't afraid of his Alpha status. Someone who wasn't one of his betas. He had to admit to himself that there was nothing family-like about the way he wanted to wrestle Stiles to the ground and make him give up, shut him up with his mouth. 

Most days, he loved their banter. Not today.

"Not me!" Stiles hurried to say. "I promise, I wouldn't eat them if you paid me, they're awful and dry and not really chocolate anyway."

Derek sighed. "Writer's block," he said, leaning his head back in frustration and staring at the ceiling. "It's all crap. I've written forty thousand words of uninspired dreck. And I can't get my asshole hero to even show that he's interested in the sexy werewolf."

"I know," Stiles said, and when Derek turned to face him, his brown eyes were warm, hinting of a smile that didn't show up on his lips. "I read your Tumblr, you know."

"You do?" This was new information. New, and unsettling. Derek used that blog to rant, to vent, to share snippets he thought were good, though he hadn't exactly been doing a lot of that lately.

"Of course I do. You're my Alpha," he said, like it wasn't a big deal. Like the pack that grew out of their terrifying teenage years wasn't Derek's life work. Beacon Hills was quieter these days, but Derek never really grew out of the habit of looking over his shoulder. "I don't know what your problem is. You just sit down and bang it out, and then it'll be done. But what would I know? I only have a semi-famous YouTube channel for my filk songs, that pays enough to buy me food one week a month."

"Jerk," Derek said, more disappointed in himself than upset about Stiles arrogance. He intentionally toned up the sarcasm a bit. "And I'm just a solid C-list paranormal romance author, with four novels to my name. How can I ever compare to your fame?"

Stiles conceded the point with a shrug. "Can I read the latest part?" he asked. "I might be able to give you a tip or two."

Well, it couldn't hurt, Derek reasoned, as he picked up the computer and logged back in. Stiles was creative and could come up with the best ideas, when he wasn't busy being an annoying dick.

Stiles started reading, and just after a few seconds, he was snickering. Derek bit his lip to stop some bitter, hurtful words from coming out. He had learned over the years, with the help of a great deal of therapy, that his spontaneous reaction usually wasn't the best.

"This is hilarious. You should have told me you were writing a love story about us."

"What?!" Derek stood up, shocked. Stiles kept snickering.

"'Rip your throat out with my teeth,' remember when you said that to me? Oh, I barely even liked you then. No wonder your hero hasn't fallen for the werewolf yet. That took me---" He stopped abruptly, his heart beating like drum solo, and turned away.

"Stiles," Derek asked carefully, "what were you going to say?" He didn't dare to hope. When they were all young and traumatized, he had dreamt about Stiles confessing his love. As they grew up together, settled in as adults, as packmates and friends, and Stiles had shown no interest beyond a physical arousal, those dreams had been put on the back burner. Derek had come to terms with a snarky friendship. He'd thought it was all he was going to get. And now...

"Okay, first of all," Stiles said, not looking at Derek, "it's super unfair that you're asking that while looking like _that_. You're in your ugly knitted writing cardigan, and you're all soft and bearded, and drinking tea."

Derek was completely lost. He had no idea what Stiles was talking about, so he chose to stay silent, raising an eyebrow when Stiles finally dared to look back.

"...and then, you do the eyebrow thing. _Fine._ " Stiles took a deep breath, and his hammering heart calmed down. Derek could see the determination in his squared shoulders and steady gaze. "I didn't love you until, oh, until the Darach, at least. Maybe even the Nogitsune."

Derek didn't know what to say, so he did what he did best, and acted instead. One hand wrapped around Stiles' beautiful long neck, the other on his cheek, and he leaned in. Stiles closed the last of the distance, and they were kissing. Warm, wet, eager tongues and lips, like they couldn't get enough of each other.

"Finally," Stiles murmured, when they pulled away, and then he came back for another kiss, slower and less deep.

"I must have loved you since I saw you go after an alpha werewolf with nothing but a baseball bat," Derek whispered. "The sheer guts."

Stiles looked him in the eyes and grinned. "So, reckless and underpowered humans, that's what gets you going?"

Derek had no reply to that, so he growled, grabbed Stiles' ass and lifted. After only minimal flailing, he got with the program and wrapped his legs around Derek's waist and his arms around Derek's neck. Derek couldn't stop himself from nosing and licking along the tendons of that neck he'd dreamt about for so long, and Stiles bent his head back and offered it up for him.

"Mmm… Much as I like this, ooh, how about finding a… ahhh… a wall or a bed or something?"

Derek snickered, and carried Stiles to his bed. They fell down, Derek on top of Stiles, and Stiles let out a groan. Derek pulled back, to see if he was hurt, but he kept rambling.

"Bed, good choice, good choice. Save the walls for later."

He smelled absolutely delicious. Cinnamon and musk and sweat, evidence of his arousal if the hard line of his cock against Derek's wasn't enough. Derek pulled up his shirt and buried his nose in Stiles' chest, sniffing and kissing up from his slim belly to his defined pecs. All the other werewolves underestimated him, but Stiles was _strong_ , and Derek wanted that strength for himself.

"Your beard, it _tickles_ ," Stiles laughed, and Derek looked up with a grin, before lowering his chin and dragging his beard along Stiles' sides. 

"You fucking _asshole_ ," Stiles said, when he could stop the uncontrolled guffawing, pulling Derek up for another deep kiss. 

"That's why you love me," Derek said, reluctantly letting go of Stiles' wonderfully talented lips. 

"It is. It really is. I'm so gone on you, you have no idea."

Derek smiled, and watched Stiles expression melt when he returned the smile. "I think I may have an idea or two, actually."

Stiles' hands came up to drag through his hair, longer now than it had been when they met. He pulled a little, and Derek groaned. He could feel his claws poking at his fingertips, and held them back. Stiles kissed the sides of his mouth.

"I don't mind you wolfing out, you know that." 

"Don't wanna hurt you," Derek said, his teeth starting to grow.

"I've jerked off to your wolf face so many times, I get a boner from seeing you shifted." Stiles held Derek's face in his hands, looking at him sternly. "I like your wolf face, even if I miss your eyebrows."

Derek collapsed on his chest, laughing, and Stiles joined in just a few moments later. They stroked each other, hands roaming on top of clothes and under them.

"I wanna get my mouth on your cock," Derek said, panting. Stiles replied by trying to shimmy out of his jeans, with moderate success. Derek had to help him with the last bit, getting those skinny jeans over Stiles' large feet. The scent was even stronger when he was naked, and heavier on the musk. Derek licked a stripe along the underside of Stiles' flushed cock, and then focused strongly on retracting his teeth, before taking the head into his mouth. A little bit of suction, a lick over the slit, and then he lost his patience. He grabbed Stiles' ass, and tried to open his throat for Stiles' long cock. It was sloppy and wet and perfect, and he could feel Stiles' muscles twitching.

"I'm not gonna last," Stiles panted, holding on to Derek's head without pushing.

Derek didn't even want to try to speak. He just gave Stiles a thumbs up, which made him laugh again. He pushed his cock further into Derek's mouth. 

Derek lost track of time. There was just Stiles' cock in his mouth, his jaw starting to ache, his claws pressing into Stiles' ass, and the incoherent sounds that Stiles was making. Before long, Stiles was coming, warm spurts of come into his throat and his mouth, and then onto his face as he pulled off. Derek wiped his face with the cardigan, and grinned.

"Thanks," Stiles said, still catching his breath. "I have a new kink now."

Derek just chuckled, leaning in for a dirty kiss, and pulled his sweatpants down.

"Let me, let me, I need to hold it," Stiles begged, and Derek had no problems letting him take over. "Oh," he gasped, "you're uncut… I have so many questions..." His hand started moving, slowly, and Derek fucked into it.

"Later," Derek promised, knowing full well what kind of interrogation he just signed up for. Stiles hands, his gorgeous hands with those long fingers, those hands knew exactly what they were doing. His own orgasm surprised him, and he fell down, his arms failing at holding him up any longer. 

He just couldn't stop kissing Stiles, now that he finally was allowed. They were still halfway dressed or more, covered in sticky come, and really needed to take a shower, but he didn't want to leave the bed, not just yet. 

Stiles kissed his nose, his forehead, his ears. It was soft and sweet, and everything he had wanted.

"So, are you uncut because your foreskin would grow back?" Stiles asked, and Derek rolled onto his back and laughed. Yes, everything he had wanted, this ridiculous man in his bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to [Hard to Be the Bard](https://youtu.be/JRDajvNX7Vw?t=44s) from the Something Rotten musical, which is a fantastic song about writer's block, and complaining about how hard it is to write, while my [filker](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Filk_music) husband just spat out two filk songs in a night.
> 
> So, naturally, I wrote a fic about it.


End file.
